Captive Fates

An Erotic Desert Fantasy

Warlock’s Pawn

Captive Fates Book 1

ISBN: 978-1-93176-164-2

In a world of blood and sand, becoming a warlock’s queen is a fatal curse. To survive the Helicon court, Alia must learn to play a lethal game. But while she faces assassins with a dagger in hand, what she fears most is losing her heart along with her freedom.

Silky hair the color of midnight framed features that had haunted Duncan’s dreams. The thick skein hung straight and heavy down to the fey’s waist, and her pointed ears poked out to tease him through the dark cascade. Her lips were without color, but they were full and made for kissing. Now that her cheeks had lost some fullness, he could make out up-tilted cheekbones that matched her sharp pointed chin. Combined with those amethyst eyes, the female revealed before him looked every inch the fey of lore. He had dreamed of her every night for the past five years, and all those dreams paled in comparison to the reality of having her within reach.

He wanted to shake her for daring to place the welfare of others above her own. He wanted to demand her promise that she would never put her life in danger again. His arms ached to circle her frail shoulders and pull her against his chest. His hands yearned to trace the circles under her eyes and wipe away the exhaustion on her face. But all he could do was meet her gaze with his. He filled his lungs with her crisp scent and savored the invisible ebb and flow of magic that pulsed between their bodies. For now, this was all he would allow himself.

The Raven let out a low whistle, clearly impressed that such a big secret had been kept from him. “No wonder you shared the fey queen with the rest of us. This little one will bear the child of prophecy just as well.”

Spanning her small waist with his hands, Duncan’s smile was a dark promise.

“And so she shall. While I prefer Anora’s body, I can be certain any child born of this fey will be mine. Only my cock will ever breach her tight little channel.”

Alia’s affronted gaze met his directly, the intriguing depths of her eyes swirling with confusion and ire. But when she spoke, her words were measured and without emotion, and he could not help but be impressed by her ability to keep a clear head.

“There is a price for my fidelity. I will abide by your wishes, but you must give me your word that my friends will be safe.”

“They are highborn women,” the Raven interjected, “spoils of war, the same as her.”

Her gaze still locked with his, Alia countered with more bite to her tone. “That may be the case, but they are under my protection. You do not wish me to fight your claim, nor do you want to watch every move I make for fear that I will defy you. All I want is for Shay and Mira to stay by my side if that is their choice. You will not force upon them a fate not of their choosing. That curse is mine to bear.”

A primal part of Duncan wanted to crush his lips against hers and hold her captive until she gave her word to never seek another man’s bed. But his voice was cold and without emotion when he asked, “If I agree to your request, you will obey me without question, whatever comes?”

“To that I vow,” she replied. “The war is over. You are my lord, whether I wish it or not.”

The flare of hope in her vulnerable gaze was what swayed him, not her empty threat. While he feared Alia’s propensity to stir his protectiveness, he found himself unable to refuse such a small request. “I will grant your wish. Your companions will enter the palace as handmaidens. You may be surprised to find your concern misplaced. Those close to you are neither defenseless nor innocent. They will be allowed to choose their own lovers, but you are mine and mine alone.”